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by primr0se



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Love, Phone Sex, Reunion Sex, Romance, long distance, love island the game - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primr0se/pseuds/primr0se
Summary: Bobby and MC's relationship is put to the test by distance.“Let me know if there’s a way I can reassure you.” There’s mischief in her tone, and curiosity sparks tingles of excitement across each inch of Bobby’s skin.“Yeah?” He asks, interest piqued. “What did you have in mind?”
Relationships: Bobby/Main Character (Love Island)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





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**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you to DarthVada88, throughthejunobush, and christy_sparkles for pulling me through. Truly the most supportive bras a gal could ask for.

_ Tick. Tick. Tick _

A thin red line chases the minute hand for the umpteenth time, and each tick echoes throughout the the flat hauntingly. An all consuming silence is doing Bobby’s head in, though he appears unphased as he rests with his arms folded behind his head and his legs tangled together on the other end of the couch. The only thing giving away his true state of mind is the tip of his toe tapping hastily against the arm rest. 

It’s as if the quiet air is seeking vengeance for all the times he’d broken it with a witty joke as it’s now targeting him at his weakest moment. The blank ceiling loosely holds his attention for now, but he’s strategically placed his phone on his chest so there’s no chance he’ll miss it igniting with light. At the very least, it’s an improvement from the pointed look he’s been giving the front door, as if by winning the staring competition she’ll come home sooner.

November air sweeps through the crack in the window, but he can’t bring himself to close it despite his detest for the nip in the air. A shower of goosebumps prickle across his arms, and his subconscious reprieves him from the noiseless torture by taking him down an impromptu trip of memory lane, featuring the only girl to elicit a similar reaction. 

First, he sees her standing in the kitchen, swirling a wooden spoon through the contents of a mixing bowl for a final time. Her trademark contagious smile illuminates the tone of the room as she begins shifting the cupcake batter into their paper holders. She furrows a brow in concentration, and he wonders how it’s possible to look so cute when handling a task so seriously. After popping the steel pan pan into the oven, she takes her seat on the ground. Her eyes settle on the glass that separates her from the intensifying heat of the oven as she waits for the cupcakes to rise. An everyday magic, as she calls it. A pang of hurt steamrolls his heart as he aches take a seat beside her on the cool tile floors, if only to bask in her radiance for another moment.

A new memory suddenly presents itself as if his mind understands the unintentional betrayal. This time, he’s attempting to spoon her in bed, but he’s carefully gathering her long locks in hand to ensure he doesn’t accidentally lay on it for the second time that night. Carefully, he twists the bundle off to the side of her pillow. Graciously, she thanks him, and turns her head to lock eyes. It never ceases to amaze him how they seem to shine with mischief, even -- maybe especially -- in the dark. She insists on Captain B. Smooth taking his usual position as the little spoon to ensure the safety of her scalp. A finger taps against his chin as pretends to consider for a moment, before moving his hands towards her torso. He wiggles his fingers across her sides and she shrieks with laughter, curling inwards until her knees meet her chest. The heart behind his ribcage swells with love at the memory of her sweet sound. Though it’s something he never needed to work too hard for, it made him beam with pride each and every time. As if it’s his own form of everyday magic. Long, lean arms of his encircle her waist, and he presses a kiss to her temple as he brings her closer, hoping their body heat would allow them to melt into one. A similar pain spreads through his chest once more as he’s reminded of how empty his arms have been in her absence.

As if to give this therapy one last try, his mind shifts to one of the numerous times he’d introduce her to a movie, and she’d find her way onto his lap the moment the credits began rolling. Her thighs rest comfortably on each side of his own, and his hands wander upwards across the soft skin of her back. Teasingly, he runs a finger along the band of her bra, and she lets out a huff of frustration before tilting her head at him and biting her lip; a telltale sign she has payback for his innocent teasing in mind. Plush lips barely graze across the skin of his neck, and it sends an urgency pumping through his veins. He grinds his hips against her curve of her thigh, desperate for a little relief, and she slowly slides herself down his body until she’s on her knees between his legs. Even now, the thought of it makes his heart skip a beat. She smiles cheekily at him as she unbuckles his belt, only to purposely brushes her fingertips against his throbbing cock as she helps tug his jeans from his waist to his ankles. There’s something about the way she looks up at him from her spot between her thighs that makes him feel so  _ wanted _ . As if everything he gives her could never be enough. As if he would never be too much for her. Her eyes shift focus from his to member, and she licks her lips before resting his sensitive tip against her mouth. A delicious invitation of warmth is extended as she begins parting her lips-- 

Until vision ends abruptly, and he’s pulled back to reality at the sensation of his cock propping up a tent in his joggers. A huff of frustration blows through his nose as he looks at his hardon. The cold sense of nostalgia is too heavy for him to be turned on, but somehow all the happy memories turn into longing, and the intimate memories turn into wanting. It’s as if he’s balancing on a tightrope made of silly string; lean too far into their happy memories and he’s left wistfully free falling without the promise of her arms to secure him, or lean too far into their intimate moments and free fall into a pit of desire only he can satiate -- although it leaves him feeling less than satisfied.

“Go away.” He groans in irritation, serving a pointed look at his restrained member. The line between vivid memories and wishful reality begin to blend as he swears he catches a glimpse of her in the kitchen. The lyrics of her favorite song fills the air in her distinctively quiet, but melodious tone as if she’s afraid of waking him. But the vision of her dissipates as quickly as she appears.

Nights like this used to be Bobby’s worst nightmare. The combination of defending his sanity from his racing mind on top of trying to adapt to their busy schedules is something he’s just beginning to learn how to navigate. Although he’d never been in a long distance relationship until now, he never anticipated he’d be the type to last in one. Yet, this was becoming a normal evening for him, and he while it’s never easy, it’s always worth it.

He’d do anything for her.

Before she came around, he wasn’t sure he’d ever find a girl who fit into his world properly. Besides his work, Bobby struggled to find something he loved enough to commit to. He was as predictable as a coin toss. The only thing he knew for certain was his love of spontaneous plans, and his hopes of someone to share them with. But the latter was something struggled with even more than his restlessness. Easy to fall with no one willing to catch him, he’d been burned one too many times in the past, making it nearly impossible for him to open up. While he swore to his friends the reason he hadn’t had a girlfriend in years was because he struggled to see anyone as more than friends, it ultimately came down to choosing the safe route over the risk of rejection.

Then, he spent the summer on Love Island, and the world as he knew it changed. 

The moment she was introduced, he felt his breath get caught in his throat as if the oxygen was disappearing from the air that surrounded him. She wore a red one piece that left little to the imagination with the way clung to the curves of her body, and he was left wondering if she knew he was already wrapped around her finger in a similar way. But that was only the beginning. 

When he introduced himself with a painfully corny joke, her reaction was more than anything he could’ve hoped for. It was the first time he heard her laugh, and he swore in that moment he must’ve dreamed her into existence. The apples of her cheeks pushed upwards, causing her gorgeous bright eyes to squint as laugh lines dared to kiss her temples. It was in that moment he knew he needed to push the fear of his insecurities to the side. Merely minutes into his summer of love, the risk of getting hurt was already being edged out by the risk of never getting a chance with such a stunning girl.

To his surprise, she found him worth the risk, too. She picked him that first day regardless of being the least fit lad of the bunch, and not a day went by where he’d let her regret taking a chance on him. Despite being separated by new arrivals, disastrous recouplings, and the dreaded separation of Casa Amor, they always found their way back to one another. 

Chelsea, their closest friend and fellow islander, often reminded them their time in the villa was nothing short of a fairytale. He found her endlessly intriguing in the ways she wore her heart on her sleeve, and she was equally enchanted by the way his feelings slowly trickled out of him; as if he was waiting for her, the first rays of the spring sun, to melt the icicles winter callously left behind. 

She’d become his Sunshine.

By the finale, Bobby hardly recognized himself. For the first time, he had someone he was afraid of losing, and he’d be damned if an occasional work trip would get in the way of their happiness.

Yet, here he lays, waiting by the phone for her call and feeling a bit guilty due to his impatience. In the four months since they’ve left the villa, this is her first work trip, and it’s a staggering learning curve as a month long trip. As a rainforest conservationist he can’t possibly expect her to have a regular schedule, but with Glasgow being four hours ahead of the Amazon, he now struggles with an ongoing battle of sleeping his afternoon’s away if it meant a night of talking to her. Needless to say, the one constant in his life -- his own schedule -- has taken the back burner, but it’s a small price to pay for all the breathless moments she leaves him with. After all, she’s become as necessary as his cups of tea. The ones he couldn’t go without, even in the heat of Majorca.

A flash of light streaks across his face like the promise of home in a strobe of a lighthouse, and his heart races with excitement. The nerves take over his control as he fumbles with the device before he raises it to his face. The corners of his lips turn downwards as he realizes it’s only a notification from the ‘gram. He opens the app to hastily do away with it in fear of somehow accidentally declining her call, but gets distracted with first photo he sees on his feed.

It’s her.

The corners of his lips turn upright in a stark contrast at the sight of his lass, dressed head to toe in comfortable clothing to protect against the elements of the rainforest. She’s out there doing what she loves and making a difference in the world. A warmth of pride melts away frigid loneliness around his heart. 

He’s so distracted by the sight of her, he almost doesn’t realize who’s next to her. A handsome Korean man with a charming personality and abs of steel underneath that loose white button up.

Lucas.

It only comes as a slight surprise to see them together. Lucas is always off traveling the world, and it’s one of the main reasons he took such an interest in Bobby’s lass over the summer. Not to mention the fact he’s a strikingly handsome doctor and she’s dedicated her life to saving all the animals she can. He grips his phone a little tighter and he attempts to put himself in the mindset he had when he confronted Lucas for overstepping boundaries months ago.

It’s a question she’s already answered in numerous forms, but one he can’t stop from lurking in the corners of his mind as they explore the uncharted territory of loving from afar. Bobby isn’t normally a jealous lad, but in the three weeks she’s been gone it feels like a little bump in the road could lead to a flat. It’s the longest they’ve been separated since they met, and it’s just now dawning on him how heavily he relies on her body language for reassurance. While she says what’s on her mind, he always feels most secure seeing the shine in her eyes and knowing he’s the reason behind her smile. 

_ “When I do find her, she’ll always have a fresh pastry in her hand and a smile on her face.” _

Bobby’s words from the Mr. Love Island challenge come back to haunt him. He’d lovingly placed a cupcake in front of his lass, and her eyes sang with gratitude. It’s how he showed his love before he even realized that’s where their hearts were heading. But what if baked goods and his sense of humor weren’t enough? What if Lucas was right, and she starts to believe that compatibility has more to do with a functioning schedule and similar life goals? Back when they were in the villa, he explained to Lucas that seemingly working on paper simply wasn’t the same as having a natural intuition on how to love one another, but what if it’s no longer enough? 

What if she’s forgetting about the way he makes her feel? 

It’s times like this he wishes his life could be like a movie montage, as he thought “villa time” would have ended along with their season of Love Island, yet without her here slows and intensifies all the same.

A light bursts from his phone and pulls him from the dark thoughts crowding his mind like the sun overcomes the cover of night each morning. The screen transitions to the photo she took of herself the day she was dared to send a selfie to the fittest boy. It’s as if she knows just when he needs her most. His hands are shaking with anticipation as he finally positions the device against his ear.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He breathes out, relief clear in his voice.

“Hi, love!” She greets in excitement. “Ugh, I miss you so much. Just the sound of your voice makes me feel homesick.” The pulsing insecurities in his mind begin to mellow, and his heart beats in sync with her breathing. 

“Hmm,” he pretends to ponder. “I was told you didn’t  _ get _ homesick.” He states as a matter of fact. When they found out the timeframe of her trip, they began a playful debate of who would miss the other most. Bobby insisted she would on account of her rarely spending time in her London flat and practically living with him instead, though she felt it was too soon to move in officially. 

“I never  _ used _ to get homesick. I guess I hadn’t realized how much the summer changed me.” She says, amusement sparkling in her tone. And he grins, knowing he is the reason. “So tell me, are things different without me around?” She asks, confidence oozing from her words. The confession he uttered before her departure for Casa Amor stood as a strong defense in her argument of him missing her most.

“This is hardly Casa Amor.” He laughs, though he knows damn well he’s in a much worse headspace than she is. Distance is something she’s never feared before. The balance of relationships and work isn’t an easy one by any means, but she’s well versed comparatively.

“I know.” She sighs, though there’s still positivity radiating in her voice. “But there’s only one more week left!” 

“I can’t wait.” He smiles, despite knowing he’s in for a terribly bleak week ahead. Most of his upcoming days would blur together, and in an effort to combat it, he’ll try to focus mainly on his work. After work, he’ll take a nap to prepare for the strange sleeping schedule he’s just now starting to get accustomed to, only for it to change here shortly.

Until Thursday. Thursday night will be spent trying desperately to get some sleep, but his body will tingle with excitement knowing she’s only hours away from being back in his arms. And as the dark night of Thursday turns into the bright skies of Friday, he will wear a smile despite his tired eyes with the promise of her affection so close.

“Me either.” She says, softly. “I’m sorry I’ve got your routine in such a twist. I’m sure you must be missing a normal schedule.”

The sentence almost makes him chuckle. “There are a million things I miss more than my routine right now.” He replies, cheekily, as if he’s been waiting for a moment to shower her with compliments.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” She asks with fluttering curiosity. Almost as if she’s secretly asking to be amused, and he lives to entertain.

“Hm, where to start?” He asks, pausing to consider. “Ah, your smile. Glasgow’s been notably gloomier since you’ve left.” 

“I wonder why.” She says sarcastically. The joking tone goes hand in hand with her signature smiling eye roll, and his cock twitches at the thought of her playful demeanor. She’s  _ so _ sexy.

“Beats me, darlin’. The weather reporters are going mad.” He jokes, taking a more serious tone to match his facade.

“Well, I suppose it’s fair to say I have a bit of a vendetta since Casa Amor.” She jokes.

Bobby can’t help but laugh at the memory. Weather reporters were the villa girls idea of perfect women, but he always finds a way to explain that in his eyes, it doesn’t get more perfect than her. “You know weather reporters have nothing on real life superheroes, right?” He questions. The pride in his voice makes it clear she’s hands down the most incredible woman he knows.

“Thank you, babes.” She says softly. There’s a faint happiness in her voice, and he can tell she’s smiling from his attempt to soothe her insecurities. A guilt weighs heavily on her shoulders for having a career that puts so much distance between them, but no matter how much he misses her, he couldn’t allow her to feel so sad about something that -- without him in the picture -- makes her so happy.

There’s a moment of silence between the two as if they’re searching for the right words. If only the guard around his heart would allow him to pivot the conversation back to all the things he misses about her; how her eyes light up with mischief. The way her fingertips skate down his arms and chest, leaving him feeling wanted in a way he never had before. How she claims him with her luscious lips. Luckily, the one thing distance can’t take is her quick wit and irresistible laugh. Bobby realizes he’s so far in his thoughts that the silence is now a sign of sweeping vulnerability. He puts on his armor forged of humor and deflection as his love threatens to spill from his lips. “You’re basically Wonder Woman.” 

“Bobby,” she breathes his name in an amused warning. This time he knows she’s rolling her eyes by that sing-song voice implying he’s too much, but her light laughter encourages him to continue.

“Let’s keep this between us, yeah? No need to excite Rahim.” He jokes, biting his lip at the thought of everyone wanting her. She laughs again, and he wonders if she knows this is one of the few things that brings him a sense of reassurance. One of the few things that makes him think he could be enough for her.

“Speaking of villa boys, Lucas came around today.” She admits. The brief sense of reassurance goes out the window at the drop of his name. 

“I saw. You looked like you were enjoying yourselves.” Normally, Bobby didn’t mind when guys eagerly flirted with her. How could he blame them? She was the perfect equivalent of a human cupcake, and selfishly, it gave him a bit of an ego boost. But there was something different with Lucas -- a history that still makes him insecure despite the time away.

“Well, it’s nice to see a familiar face. It can get a bit lonely out here. Plus, he’s been really respectful.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Are you jealous?” Her tone is something like concern laced with amusement.

“Me? Jealous? Never.” He insists. It’s far from the truth, but he can’t bring himself to talk to her about it. What if she thinks he doesn’t trust her? What if it makes her feel even guiltier? He’ll happily absorb the pressure if it means she can have it all -- her dream job and a supportive partner.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He can hear in her melodic tone that she doesn’t believe him, but this is one of the many reasons he loves her. She’d state her mind, but never pressured him to open up. “Let me know if there’s a way I can reassure you.” There’s mischief in her tone, and curiosity sparks tingles of excitement across each inch of Bobby’s skin.

“Yeah?” He asks, interest piqued. “What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe we could give phone sex a try. What do you think?” She asks, attempting to conceal the nerves in her words with faux confidence. His heart skips a beat at the proposal. The thought of her touching herself to the idea of him is enough to make his cock twitch with life. As if he is her fantasy. Any remaining reservations he felt towards Lucas are shoved out of his mind. 

It’s an understatement to say it’s been a long three weeks. Bobby will try anything once, and although he’s never had phone sex before, the concept of pretending she was next to him — touching him — wasn’t exactly new. Before she came around he relied on videos for late nights of needed relief. Yet, ever since he’s made love to her, he relies on his memory instead. A woman so incredible she put porn to shame. 

“So...what are you wearing?” He asks in an attempt to break the tension. There’s a pause between them, followed by the sound of their laughter entangling. Until, once again, it dies down into a somewhat serious silence. 

“It’s not really sexy,” she breaks the silence. “I’m in a white sports bra and black panties.” She admits, her tone low. Although he finds her sexy in everything she wears, sports bras are among his favorite. The fabric is always thin enough for him to see her nipples poking through, yet firm enough to allow the tops of her breasts to nearly overflow. He knew damn well she was teasing him, and it’s as if he’s emitting sparks of excitement with each breath that leaves him. 

A vision of her appears in his mind, and his breathing shallows. The tops of her breasts are so full they peek out to greet him from the restricting fabric of her bra. He wishes he could kiss the line of her panties that hugs her hip bones, and that he could massage the parts of her ass that refuse to be contained in the little fabric from the back. It’s no secret the visual sends his mind reeling between his audible hard swallow and his cock rising like a french vanilla souffle. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He says, playfully. 

“Oh, are we roleplaying too? We never did solve that mystery of the purring.” She giggles into the phone. Despite her joking tone, he can tell there’s a piqued interest. He bites his lip, wondering if the distance has made her want him just as badly.

“Maybe when you get back.” He chuckles, following along in her playful demeanor though the ideas swirl around his head. “I could think of a few better uses for that tea towel than a wig.” He admits. They’d already dabbled in unintentional bondage when they made love in the villa and she secured her hands to the blanket so no cameras would see. The thought of her hands being secured with a tea towel, or maybe her eyes, as he worships her body is nearly enough to make his eyes roll back in his head.

“Please do, Judge Bobby.” She jokingly purrs. He can’t help but smile. “Don’t leave me in the dark, here. What are  _ you _ wearing?” 

Up until this point, the conversation felt easy, but this question makes him squirm as he understands they’re entering the shallow end of a murky situation. Bobby isn’t the kind of guy to consider himself  _ sexy _ , and phone sex isn’t the easiest situation to dive into. Especially when lacking a bit of confidence. So, in true Bobby fashion, he avoids the vulnerability with a joke. “Uh...khakis.” He attempts, recalling the insurance commercial he showed her months ago on a night in that sent them into fits of laughter. 

A bright squeal of approval falls from her lips, and he’s reminded of one of the many reasons why he loves her. Even in their moments of intimacy nothing is taken too seriously. 

“Settle down now, Captain B. Smooth. You really know how to wind a girl up.” She teases. Her laughter dies down, though it's stained her lips with giggles. 

“I'm just warming up!” He jokingly insists, though he can feel himself shying away as he fumbles to find his confidence. “Admittedly, I can be much better with my hands than my words.” He says, taking a moment to admire his favorite part of himself.

“So tell me what you’d do if you were here.” She states. The words are so deceivingly pure, but he allows his mind to wander to the way she looks before he kisses her. A twinkle of mischief in her eyes. A seemingly innocent smile on her lips, but he knows what they look like wrapped around his cock. A shudder rolls through him as he tries to string the right words together considering the ball is officially in his court, and he can feel the pressure boiling underneath his lungs, making it harder to breathe. 

“I’d...take your face in my hands and I’d kiss you.” His first attempt is awkward, but the more he pictures her in his mind, the more he relaxes and allows his imagination to take over. The distance has a way of making you reminisce on memories, and so he replays them like a movie in his head, making sure to slow down at all of his favorite parts. In his mind, he isn’t simply holding her face and pressing his lips to hers. He’s brushing his thumb across her cheek and recalling how beautifully soft her skin is. He’s caressing her lips with his own until they molded into one, and exploring the depths of her mouth so he can memorize her taste all over again.

“Then, I’d push the straps of your bra off your shoulder and kiss the skin it underneath it,” he says, picturing the way her chest would slowly rise and fall in anticipation with her shallow breaths. “but I’d do it slow enough to make you insist on taking over.” He grins, remembering the way she became impatient so easily, though she never had a problem with taking her time with him. The smile subsides shortly as he imagines her taking matters into her own hands and freeing her perfect, bouncing breasts from the restricting fabric so they can kiss her ribcage. “I’d start kissing down your jaw, and to your neck at that spot that makes you go weak.” His breathing hitches at the thought of her arching into his touch, desperate for more of his mouth on her. Blood is sent rushing from the head that rests on his shoulders to the head that’s currently demanding attention, and suddenly, his grey joggers are feeling much tighter. 

A hum of delight comes through the speaker, and Bobby’s eyes flutter shut as he quickly surrenders to the sounds of pleasure. 

“And I’d run my nails down your chest.” She says, seemingly happy to take over now that he’s gotten more comfortable. “Can you do that for me?” She asks softly. Her voice is so sweet, he starts doing it innately, as if he’s under a spell. An audible “uh-huh” mumbles out before trailing his fingers down his body, grazing himself tenderly as he knows she would. “But stop before you get to your pants.” 

“Why?” He asks, furrowing a brow as he reaches the border of the fabric. 

“Because half the fun is in the teasing, isn’t it?” She says, clearly amused with herself. “And this only works if you do what I say.” He isn’t sure if he believes the latter, or if she simply takes pleasure in torturing him, but he can’t say much. Teasing is the name of their game.

“Alright, darlin’. I’m with you.” His voice comes out strangled with a matching desperation his cock’s been feeling.

“Dip a finger into your waistband, from one hipbone to the other.” He followed her instructions, trailing a single finger from one protruding bone and into the dip of his “V.” As his touch grazes the path she knows too well from one hip bone to the next, he hardens almost painfully, as he pictures the tips of her nails skimming his sensitive skin. “Now run your fingers down the inside of your thighs.” She says, softly. These instructions prove to be much more difficult, as he no longer feels his fingertips, but he feels the warmth of her tongue followed closely by the heat of her mouth. 

“I want you.” He whimpers. Though, the work up has left him feeling harder than ever before, and need was only a stone throw away as he was grateful for any attention at this point.

“We don’t settle for want, do we?” She whispers playfully. Although he hears the light heartedness in her voice, the situation is so intensifying he can only register it as seductive. 

“No.” He gives a shaky breath, knowing damn well she’ll wait for those magic words  _ I need you _ instead. But his thighs feel like they’re up in roaring flames, and they’re only hope of being quenched is to find her between them. 

“Then, I would just  _ barely _ graze your balls,” she says, and he follows instinctively, brushing his fingertips against his soft skin gingerly. He inhales sharply, but gratefully at the friction. “Before taking the tip of you into my mouth and running my tongue across it.”

A moan escapes his lips at the visual. He moves his thumb across the head of his dick, and although it’s nothing like the way she swirls her heavenly heat around him, it’s the closest he’s felt to her in her absence. A blissful sigh of relief rattles it’s way out of his throat before he  _ finally _ shifts the phone between his shoulder and his ear. Hastily, he shoves his pants around his knees, and in no time he holds himself in his hand. The end of his desperation is near, and his knees buckle at his own touch. 

All he wants now is to hear her.

“Are you thinking of the way I look while I suck your cock?” She asks. How can such dirty words sound so sweet? The memory of her hollowed out cheeks is all he can see as he begins to pump himself slowly, moving from the base to his tip, then start over once again ever so slightly faster. 

“I am, but I’d rather hear you, darlin’.” He admits. It’s almost as if she’s shown him the ropes, and now he can get to the part that matters. The part he craves. Hearing her gorgeous voice whimper for him, and him only. “I would move your hand away, and slide my fingers from your belly button down into your panties.” He pauses, and his breath gets stuck in his throat as a quiet whimper comes through the phone. A spot of precum leaks out from the tip of his dick, and he spreads it around his head the same way she would lick it away. The moisture makes him whimper as the memory of her mouth becomes lifelike. “Then, I would slowly circle my finger around your clit until you begged me for more.” 

A moan so enticing, it personifies sultry, fills his ears, and he shuts his eyes to immerse himself. He’s numb to everything but the sound of her voice. The vision of her writhing sends his heart racing. The way her long lashes fan out across her cheeks, and all the wasted wishes on kisses and pizza when they should’ve reserved them for times like these. The way she looks with her head tilted back as he makes her body sing with the twist of a wrist. The way her sounds of soft breathing fill the phone, and he can see her as the ethereal vision she is every time she swims through the sheets of their bed. 

“I want your fingers.” She whines, requesting ever so kindly. It takes him back to sliding his fingers between her folds, feeling the warmth and wetness inviting him inside. 

“And my fingers want you.” He says softly. Though it’s meant to be a joke, he allows his vulnerability to trickle out. “I’ll always want you. Forever, darlin’. Slide those fingers in the way I would.”

A moan of relief passes through the phone, and he knows it’s because she’s picturing him between her legs. The thought makes his face flush as he remembers his second home between her thighs. It’s as if his memory misses her just as much as the taste of her graces his tongue, and instinctively aware of what usually accompanies that moan, his fingers constrict around him in the same fashion she would.

“Can you feel me?” She asks, breathlessly. Her voice is raw and laced with pleasure. The image of her is splashed across his mind like a watercolor painting as she raises herself, slowly, allowing him to miss every inch of her heat as she carefully slides back onto him. He lets out a low moan as he intentionally mimics the movements of her heat. 

“Yeah.” He says, swallowing hard. His hand tightens around his cock, then pumps himself faster, the same way she does when she’s done with teasing at her rightful place across his thighs. Involuntarily, he thrusts into his own hand, forgetting for a moment that she isn’t there. “You feel so good, darlin.”

“You do, too.” She whimpers. The sound of her voice is so needy, it makes him pick up his own pace ever so slightly. “But my fingers don’t fill me the way you do.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” It’s as if his words form on the tip of his tongue bypassing the checks and balances of his mind before spilling out.

“It’s true,” she begins, but pauses due to a moan a little higher than the last. A giveaway the build up is starting to take over any reason in her mind, and he’s grateful as it allows him to speed up the movements of his wrist. “I miss the way you stretch me out.” She says, her voice is straining in the most delicious way. If only he could be there to kiss her throat, as he often did when her dirty talk nearly pushed him over the edge. 

“Imagine how I feel with the way you wrap around me.” He moans at his own words, remembering the way her desire drips all over him. “It’s the sexiest kind of suffocating.” He can’t help but make a joke, and he hears a giggle coming through the line before a sharp inhale of breath. The  _ oh _ trailing from her lips right after means she’s found her G-spot, and Bobby lubes his hand with his own spit hoping to imitate her as closely as possible.

“Oh,  _ Bobby _ .” She whimpers, sounding beautifully broken in the midst of chasing her release. The way she says his name is like something out of a dream, and he’s finding it hard to hold back as each time a moan falls from her lips, it’s replaced with another one shortly. Her whines are high, and airy, and filled with a need for him.

“Let me hear what you sound like, love.” He encourages, desperate for her release nearly as much as his own. A sharp moan comes through the phone, but it sounds different this time. Almost as if she’s holding back and it’s only found a way to escape through her nose. “I want to hear you come.” 

And with that, she lets out a string of the most gorgeous melody he’s ever heard. The familiar tone of pleasured distress makes his hips thrust into his hand as he pumps himself with fury. Bobby’s name falls from her lips in broken moans, and he’s imagining what she looks like on top of him as she grinds herself onto his cock. He comes undone at her undoing. 

A euphoria courses through his bloodstream as his heart pounds on the door of his ribcage; threatening to slam itself out of his body if it meant being reunited with her. Ironically, he’s blinded by a white light of divinity, though his eyes are surely closed. His breath and her name get caught in his throat, and they entangle as they leave his lips, now joined as one beautiful masterpiece. His love for her gushes out of him, and it leaves him with tingles electrifying his skin all over.

Once he comes down from his high, he’s brought back to reality by the sticky sensation pooling on his lower stomach. His nose wrinkles in disappointment as he realizes he needs to clean himself up, but he’s distracted by the exhale of breath from the other line. 

“So...what do you think?” She asks, regaining her composure with a voice as sweet as the cream cheese frosting she swears she can never balance properly. 

“I think we’ve wasted a few weeks by not doing this.” He jokes as he stands to wipe himself down despite his pants still bunching at his knees. The fabric restricts his movements to short, hurried steps across the flat as he reaches for the paper towels. 

“We’ll be well prepared for next time, then.” She giggles, but the words make Bobby freeze. Of course this is the first work trip of many, but he’s still trying to wrap his head around  _ this _ one. Living in the moment isn’t always a positive outlook.

“Yeah, next time.” The words tumble out of his mouth, and even he can hear the hesitation in his voice. A silence fills the distance between them, and he’s struggling to find the words to put a bandaid over the wound he inflicted with careless words.

“Promise I’m worth the wait? ” She jokes half heartedly. Her tone is light, but tinged with an unmistakable sadness. 

“Hey, now. What kind of question is that?” He says softly. It’s not often she asks for reassurance, and he knows it’s because the guilt weighs her down like an anchor. “You’re like our cinnamon rolls. It may take an entire night for the dough to rise, but the longer you wait, the more perfect they become.” 

Another moment of silence fills the air as she takes his words in, and he holds his breath. She’s always been much better at saying how she feels, and he fears his shortcomings with vulnerability hits particularly hard in times like this when she needs him most.

“I love you.” She breathes, and he lets out a breath of relief that he’d unintentionally been holding onto. 

“I love you too.” He says, smiling with a brightness he can only obtain after realizing he can reassure her the same way she can for him. The disappointing face of the clock reads nearly two in the morning, and Bobby sighs knowing full well he needs to be up with the dawn. “I have to go, but I'll see you soon.”

“Maybe sooner than you think.” She says in a sing-song voice. He can hear her grin through the phone. 

“You’ve got that right. In my dreams.” He jokes, sensing her lead up to a punchline and beating her to it. Although admittedly, his punchline has much more truth in it than he’s letting on.

“Alright, B. Smooth. I’ll see you there.” She says softly, entertaining him before disconnecting. Bobby holds the phone in his hand for a moment after she’s gone, and he contemplates the feelings swirling his busy, but tired mind. No matter how long they spent on the phone, he’s always left feeling a bit empty when her voice is no longer whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Luckily, he’s able to sleep away his loneliness in their bed to the smell of her shampoo that’s miraculously still permeates from her pillow.

For now, it will have to do.

* * *

The morning air is filled with the welcoming warmth of freshly baked pastries, but Bobby isn’t responsible for heavenly scent as he normally is. A co-worker called in, and this left him feeling rather uninvested on the omelette station. The Glaswegian’s heart is more invested in baking, where as the aspect of cooking is competing for his attention with the other million things on his mind. 

The picture of Lucas and his love sparked rumors across the U.K. headlines read “An Amazon Affair”, “Love Island’s “What If” Couple”, and “Bobby, Beware!” The covers all follow a similar format; a photo of the selfless pair smiling straight ahead, and a small circle with Bobby’s face looking less than enthusiastic. It pains him to know his photo is the only depiction carrying any truth. 

Naturally, it only adds fuel to Bobby’s feeling of inadequacy. Times like this make him even more grateful for the friends they made along the way, like Lottie, who fiercely defends them against the hate tabloids spew. It’s painful to have won the show by the hands of the public, and only a few months after leaving the island does he realize a love story wasn’t enough to hold their attention. The fabricated stories are always more interesting, whether it meant infidelity or summing up their relationship as an elaborate publicity stunt. 

They could never simply be happy. 

Accidentally, he channels too much of his frustration, and the egg he taps against the pan cracks in his hand. The yolk oozes out, and Bobby frowns at his thoughtless mistake. Just when he thinks he can’t feel more useless, he mucks up the only thing he’s ever felt good at...besides loving her.

He inhales deeply through his nose before turning back to the egg carton and taking out his next target. This time, he pushes all thoughts of the gorgeous doctor who’s accompanying his girl out of his mind, and focuses on what’s normally an easy task for him. The yolk finds its place across the hot metal with an audible  _ sizzle _ , and almost immediately after he feels a vibration in his pocket. 

Without a second thought, he pulls the device out. An unmistakable warmth spreads through his chest as he sees a text from his love, and he opens it with fumbling fingers. A display of her skin greets him through the screen, save for the sports bra she described to him the night before. A smile stretches across his face as he memorizes all of her curves. It’s clear the photo was taken only a few minutes after she woke up. A bright flash marks her body in a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding her, and she squints with dream stained eyes. The corners of her lips turn upwards like a crescent moon, and despite her tired eyes not opening fully, they shine like the stars that greet her each morning.

He’s so busy tapping his index finger against the fire emoji to realize she also sent a text with the selfie.

“The only thing I've thought about since we’ve been apart is your jokes, your baked goods, and your love. Everything else is just noise.” A wave of relaxation flows through him as her words leap from the screen and wrap themselves around his heart. Once again, she proves that loving her is somehow effortless, and the other concerns seem to evaporate knowing he’s the only thing on her mind.

“I know. Go on and save the world, gorgeous. I’ll be at home awaiting your return.” He wishes his favorite superhero well, and smiles blissfully with the reassurance that even if it’s the two of them against the world, they’ll beat the odds every time.

Regardless of what the media thinks, Bobby knows better. After all, they  haven’t a clue what he’s gotten her for Christmas. An apron that reads “Don’t Be Afraid to Take Whisks” and a matching glove set sit tucked away in Bobby’s closet at home. Although it’s not much, there’s no need to gift anything extravagant. He’s found everything he’s ever wanted in her. And hopefully, then, his gift will show her what he’s been trying to verbalize since they day they’ve met -- that she is his future.

A pungent smell fills his nostrils, and the taste of smoke skims his taste buds. The dark cloud of regret makes its way down his esophagus, and he begins coughing. His vision becomes blurry between the haze surrounding him and tears brim his eyes. As he looks down, he immediately finds the source of the problem, and he sighs as he takes the pan from the stove top and shoves the burnt eggs into the trash. 

One more week, and she’ll be back in his arms. One more week before his world comes back together.

* * *

  
  


Dark clouds cover the skies of Glasgow, but nothing can bring down your chipper attitude. Today, you’re going to see your boyfriend after weeks of being apart, and not a single threatening rain cloud can make you walk any faster than the excitement pulsating through you with the promise of his embrace so close. 

The sacrifices that come along with your career of choice were never ones you questioned. An occasional missed holiday and months of traveling have never weighed heavily on you before. Not only is the time abroad spent leaving a positive impact on the world, but a life in the rainforest allowed for a new adventure every day. It’s so much more than a career. For nearly half the year, it’s just as natural of an environment as the city of London or Majorca is to you now.

Though, this time around felt different. The passing weeks went on like months, and with every day you could feel yourself come a little more unhinged. No longer did your spirit feel roam freely wherever it’s dropped. Unintentionally, you planted roots before you left. For the first time, you have someone to come home to. 

And for the first time, you decided to come home early.

The short walk from the train station to his flat was over, and you find yourself eagerly knocking on his door. The last thing keeping you from his roaming hands relearning your body is this firm, wooden construct. A moment goes by and you reach for your key to his flat, but it opens ever so slowly, revealing the freckle spotted face you adore so.

“Sunshine!” He shouts, staring at you with stars in his wonderstruck eyes as his voice shimmers with excitement. The man you love is a daydream come to life as he stands before you wearing nothing but his favorite long, grey sweatpants. You step over the threshold and drop the weight of your luggage at your feet before wrapping your arms around his neck. As if he needs to ensure you’re not a figment of his imagination, he secures his arms around your waist before inhaling your scent deeply as he immerses himself in you. 

Suddenly, the long nights of yearning for each others embrace melt away. The lightly defined arms that you adore create a halo of protection around your body, reminding you that so long as you have him, you are never on your own. Your hearts beat in unison against each others chest as if to say,  _ I’m home _ . 

Though, between you two, nothing stays this heavy for too long. His grip finds your ass, and he hoists you up effortlessly as you shriek delightfully with laughter in surprise. 

Unable to resist, you press your lips to his and skate your fingertips down the soft skin of his cheek. You pull back to admire the features you’d missed so much — big, brown eyes stare back into your own, and you can see the remnants of his dreams in the way they struggle to open. Freckles scatter among his cheeks like chocolate chips in the sweetest cookie dough batter. It’s not long before he returns the sentiment and begins peppering your face with kisses all over as if to make sure you’re real. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, a sincere grin etched on his face as his spearmint breath tickles your lips. You take a moment to appreciate the little things most people take for granted. The scent of his shower gel lingers on his skin from the night before, and you inhale quietly, but deeply as you allow the familiar orange fragrance to ignite your senses. Your nails make their way from his kissable cheeks to the back of his neck where you scrape them lightly, and he utters a shaky breath. In an instant, you feel his dick twitch upwards, and bite your lip at how ready he is for you. Similarly, you’re already clenching with want at the thought of him. 

“You’re not the only one capable of grand gestures.” You breathe, doing your best to roll your hips against his. Although there’s plenty of ways to keep things interesting no matter how much distance is put between you, it seems to take their game of delayed gratification to new levels.

“I’ll have to show you my gratitude.” He grins, giving your ass a playful squeeze, and you squeal with laughter in surprise. A moment later your back is pressed against the door with his hands on either side of your waist. He presses his body against yours as his hands apply more pressure to the door behind you, and while the sound of it securing shut fills your ears, your attention is solely focusing on his lean frame pressing against yours. The position allows you to come eye to eye, and chest to chest. The flutters of warm breath dance on your lips, and you’re getting lost in those gorgeous amber eyes as his chest rises into yours gently, then falls just as easily.

Finally, the waiting was over.

All you’ve done for three weeks is talk, and you’d be damned if you went another moment without his lips on yours. The lock of your lips stays innocent for only a moment before your hands cup his cheeks, and you can feel his plump lips forming a smile before parting to taste you. As your tongues find one another, they begin to dance in an unfamiliar tango.

The stark contrast to the way you normally kiss doesn’t come as a surprise. Distance’s unforgiving nature is one you know well, along with its tendency to redefine such simple actions. No longer is a kiss merely a chance to taste one another. It’s now an exploration of the parts of him you’ve dreamt of. The parts of him you memorized in preparation for the lonely nights, only to somehow forget how he sighs with contentment at the sensation of your lips. The parts of him you will happily learn and relearn.

Up until now, his hips have kept you propped up, and his arms constrict around your waist. His cock is throbbing against your thigh, and with a single well placed brush of your center against him, he lets out a low moan. The vibration against your lips elicit a moan from yourself, and he slowly releases his hold on you until your feet find the floor gracefully. 

Hungry to taste his sounds of desperation on your tongue, you set your sights on the spot on his neck that claims him as your own. It sits right above his collarbone; just low enough for his chef jacket to cover it, and just visible enough for him to wear proudly once he took it off. Curiosity paves his face as you step closer to him and place your lips only an inch away from him. A small sense of pride sparks deep within you as he lets out a quiet moan in response to your hot breath making contact with his sensitive skin. You run your tongue along the curve of his neck before locking your lips onto his pressure point. It’s difficult to hold back a smile as you feel his heart throb against your hand on his chest.

“This is hardly fair.” He struggles as you paint patterns of desire into the blank canvas of his neck. You can feel his hands gripping the folds of your jacket and trying to shrug it off of you, but he’s not getting far without your cooperation. “You’re all bundled up, and you’ve found me half dressed.” he continues, feigning innocence.

“If I remember correctly, you have no qualms about fairness.” You giggle against his skin as you innocently flutter your eyes upwards. He’s looking down at you with caramel eyes and a smile so warm it melts the frost outside. You’re willing to bet your exchange has just catapulted him back to the early days of your relationship on Love Island during the slime challenge.

“On second thought,” He considers, though a flash of excitement gleams in his eyes. “If that means you’re going to pin me to the ground here shortly, I have no complaints.” A cheeky smile tugs the corner of his lip upwards into a smirk, and you’re left feeling weak in the knees with little understanding of how someone so gorgeous can be so oblivious to their own beauty.

A light blush dances across his freckle starred cheeks, and you can feel a similar heat gracing your own as you remember the goal of that challenge was to have the most orange slime in your bucket. Instead, you took it as an opportunity to show him how invested you were by day four, and spent the entirety of it finding new ways to press your body against his. The thought of him beneath you once more makes your pussy ache, and you drop your knee length coat to the floor to make this dirty day dream a reality. You dip your fingers underneath your shirt and slowly pull it from your body. His eyes follow your nimble movements closely, and relish in every inch of skin you reveal. 

Before you know it, you’re shaking your hair back into place after removing the useless fabric, only to drop it to the floor so that you’re  _ almost _ matching his exposure. You’re left in a tiny lace black bra and jeans that suddenly feel far too restricting. Although you’re attempting to keep a  _ calm cool collected _ demeanor, the way he takes you in makes you feel shy. Normally amber eyes are blown with lust, and his breathing is shallow as if you’ve left him speechless -- a true phenomenon for the Glaswegian. It’s as if he’s looking at all he’s ever wanted. Completely and utterly lovestruck.

Bobby’s eyes linger on your breasts, and the sudden vulnerability mixed with the cold air in the flat causes them to harden beneath the thin material. A single hand of his reaches around your back, and he effortlessly squeezes the clasp of your bra between his thumb and his other fingers. The material becomes limp against your shoulders, and his perfect fingers trail the fabric down your arms until it hits the floor. A warm hand of his replaces where the dainty fabric once rested, and he kneads the flesh that fits so perfectly into his palm. A sigh of contentment leaves your lips, and as your eyes shift downward, you catch his cock twitching within the confinement of his sweatpants. A thirst for attention you are more than happy to quench.

The tips of your fingers find themselves on his chest. You take your time trailing them down his body. First, running it gently over his dark, hardened nipple, and he lets out a shaky breath at the faint contact. Then, you ghost them over his rib cage. You watch as your touch causes his skin to prickle with goosebumps. 

His stomach muscles contract with anticipation as you near your destination at the rim of his waistband, but you aren’t done teasing. A single finger of yours slips between the soft skin of his hip and the harsh elastic. His hips gently press forward as they seek more of your touch. The small moan he emits into the otherwise silent air makes you clench as you realize he needs this as badly as you do. The mutual desperation is almost enough to make you stop teasing.

Almost.

Your hand makes it’s way past the grip of his sweatpants, and you lightly run your index finger along the curve of his defined V. You draw your eyes away from your hand and find desperate, brown eyes watching your every move. They remind you of every time he’s begged you before.

_ Please. _

_ I need you. _

_ Don’t stop. _

And it’s enough for you to take him in your palm. Bobby sighs with relief, and you swear you feel his knees buckle before his hips jut forward, searching for purchase in the overdue friction. The weeks you’ve been away have surely taken their toll on him, because he’s hot to the touch and literally pulsing for you. You tighten your grip on his member and let out a breath in anticipation. There’s a thin barrier of patience preventing you from taking him right here on the floor, but as badly as you want to feel him filling you, the need to  _ tease touch tantalize _ him is one that will always win over.

Setting a steady pace, you pump him ever so slowly, gripping the base of him gently and twisting your wrist once you work your way to his head. A moan of your name flows into your ear as his hand leaves your breast and begins to graze down to your ribcage to your stomach. His nimble fingers unbutton and unzip your jeans. A heat fills your cheeks and your soul as he slides his hand down not only the front of your pants, but also your panties. He’s cupping your heat in the most satisfying way as his palm rests firmly against your clit and his fingers dance at your entrance.

“You’re so wet.” He breathes. His voice is laced with want, and a single move of his hand sends your forehead to rest against his shoulder as your clit throbs with desperation for friction. Luckily, Bobby is fluent in your body language, and he moves his fingers where they’re needed most. His index and middle finger work hypnotic circles into your clit, and you pump him to the same rhythm, syncing as if never missing a beat.

It proves not to be enough for Bobby, though, as he removes his hand from your pants and shoo’s your hand away from his. He presses his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers, “Come with me,” before taking your hand and leading you into the kitchen. A trail of your clothing is left behind in your footsteps.

The two of you now stand before the large island, and he pats the countertop behind you. You quirk an eyebrow in response. “Kitchen bits?”

His face goes red at the phrase. “Recently, I’ve had plenty of thinking time. And I’ve concluded we haven’t christened the flat enough.” He smirks, somehow looking cocky and bashful all at once. “Why else do you think I led you here?”

“I thought we might’ve been picking up a tea towel.” You grin, giving him a cheeky wink as you recall the phone sex foreplay. He laughs, unable to help the furious blush dancing across his cheeks, and sends a smirk your way.

“To be honest, love,” he says as his fingertips find their way to brush delicately against your sides, making you squirm with delight. “I can’t stand the thought of anything keeping your hands off me for one more moment.” A moan nearly escapes you at the dirty talk dripping from his lips, and all you want to do is swallow his words if it meant his lips were on yours. Though you have to admit, the distance has made him just a touch bolder, and it’s the only worthwhile side effect.

You can feel his fingers hooking into the sides of your jeans and the thin straps of your panties. He kneels in front of you as he pushes the fabric down your legs so he’s leveled with your center. 

“You’re such a snack, Sunshine. I can't wait to get a taste of you.” He says, smiling cheekily as his eyes glow in anticipation. 

“A snack? That’s all?” You tease, challenging his line as you kick the remaining bunch of fabric off your ankles. The promise of his mouth on your center shows the true colors of your less than calm demeanor as you nearly stumble over yourself.

“You’re right. You’re like a five course meal, and I can’t stop licking my plate.” He grins. Once free from the constraints of clothing, you take a seat on the spotless counter top. Soft lips press kisses to the side of your knee, and agonizingly work their way up to the inside of your thigh. The act of intimacy brings a smile to your face. When you look down at him, he’s smiling up at you, though his face isn’t far from yours. There’s a quiet moment between the two of you as you cup his cheeks in your hands. And in this stillness, there’s no need for words.

Early on in your relationship, Bobby asked if it was hard to tell where his head is at. You answered honestly and said no. To the girls who came before you, he may have seemed that way because they never knew where to look. But you always knew where to his abundance of reassurance lies. It was where he held all of his feelings; in his eyes, and in his smile, which he so graciously gave to anyone who would laugh at his jokes, but he so lovingly gave to you in a different way. In a grateful way, as he would say,  _ “that someone as gorgeous as yourself could find someone like me funny.”  _

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing his lips to yours tenderly, and then trailing his hands from the flesh of your thighs up to your hips. Then, he teasingly brushes them across your ribs, where he gently applies pressure as if asking you to lay back in the kindest fashion. You comply, slightly shivering as the skin of your back chills from the cool surface. His fingers find the bend of your knees, and he pulls your body forward until your ass lines up with the edge of the counter. Gently, he parts your knees, then rests his warm hands on your thighs before you feel the heat of his breath on your center. Suddenly, you feel exposed, like a tree standing stark as the last leaf of autumn flutters away with the wind. Instinctively, you try closing your thighs, but his hands prevent you from doing so.

“Hey,” He encourages, asking kindly for your attention. Your eyes meet his, and they overflow with love.“you’re gorgeous.” It’s as if he’s asking you to take a step back for a moment and try to see yourself the way he sees you. A calm comes over you, ridding the insecurity from your bones and allowing him to view you in all the ways he’s waited for. 

Once again, his breath finds your center, and the anticipation of your respective heat meeting makes your toes curl. It’s been weeks since his hands have graced your skin, warming away your cold and lonely with a vibrancy that battles the sun. Weeks since those amber eyes have watched the way you writhe, encouraging you to unravel before him. Weeks since his name has fallen from your lips, and his fingers were the ones responsible for such sweet, vulgar sounds.

His tongue presses against your clit, and he begins moving against you languidly. Your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy, and by tuning out one of your five senses, the four others are alarmingly alert. The air in the room is a heavenly combination of citrus hints from his shower gel and the caramel notes of your perfume. Your hands make their way to your breasts, and you hold them in place as he works his tongue against you in perfect circles, fully aware that it's only a matter of time before he catches sight of you touching yourself. 

When he does, you know right away, as a low groan forms in his throat and sends vibrations directly against your clit. The quiver of his voice makes you tremble against him, and he wastes no time in flicking his tongue faster against you. Your hips wiggle to his rhythm as his fingertips burn their prints into your hips. Although you’re grateful for a faster tempo, you still find yourself craving more of him.

“Fingers, please.” You beg, placing your hands on top of his. In a fluid motion you move them from your hips towards your thighs as the to be touched from the inside out desire fuels the fire in your soul. For a moment, it seems like he’s about to give you exactly what you want. The anticipation of his perfect fingers sliding inside of you and filling you in a way you tried to replicate while he was out of reach, though yours could never compare. 

Instead, he moves them right back up your sides as he locks eyes with you. Without any warning besides his mischievous demeanor, he mercilessly tickles your stomach. 

“Bobby!” You exclaim, squirming with laughter under his touch. He gives you an innocent grin in return as your thighs clench around his torso.

“What?” He asks, eyes growing wide as he feigns surprise. “You asked for my fingers, didn’t you?” He continues, as the tips of his fingers gently graze long strides down your sides. This time it’s more sensual, as if his goal is to make you shiver. 

“I was  _ hoping _ you’d put them to better use.” You smile as his touch summons a shudder directly from your core. Pure joy exudes from you as your hands pin his in place at your sides. “You know, considering I’ve been waiting so long.” Your eyes lock with his, and his face twists with amusement.

The lines by his eyes crinkle with happiness, and his lips are tugging gently upwards. “Do you know what  _ I’ve _ been waiting for?” He asks, taking each of your hands in his own, then moving one towards his face.

“Hm?” You encourage, quirking an eyebrow in question.

“To see that smile.” He says, pressing your knuckles to his rosebud lips. A smile blooms on your face, and your cheeks ache with the pinch of thorns as you realize this is the happiest you’ve been in weeks. How could you be so lucky to find someone who quenches your thirst, shines light in your darkness, and allows you space to grow if only in exchange for his pride in how you brilliant you become when loved properly.

You pull the hand he’s holding captive from his grip, and it joins your other free hand on your face to hideaway. A chuckle fills the air through your self inflicted mask, and you space your fingers to allow the sight of him to peak through. 

“Now, as for these,” he says, drumming his fingers against the flesh of your thighs. “What did you have in mind?” He asks, almost bashfully. His cheeks flush pink and a smirk appears on his lips.

“You’re going to make me say it?” You ask, feigning innocence. Your front teeth catch your bottom lip. 

“Please, babes. It’s so hot when you do.” Bobby pleads. Pride sparks in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your gorgeous boyfriend begging for dirty talk. 

The apprehension you felt a week ago while pitching phone sex seems so silly now. Bobby’s insecurities have a tendency of making you choose your compliments carefully. You always make sure to tell him how funny he is, and how happy he makes you as he tends to shy away when you call him gorgeous. However, there’s something about your intimate moments that bring out a different side of him. One that loves hearing how badly you need him. One that makes it nearly impossible for you to resist giving him exactly what he wants.

Caramel eyes stare into your yours, and they draw out the answer like a confession. “I want them inside me.” You breathe. 

Bobby’s eyes darken with lust, and in an instant his hands are on either sides of your thighs. Carefully, he leans over you, and presses his chest to your hip bones before sliding himself up your body until his hot breath reaches your ear. The warmth is irresistibly inviting, and you find yourself leaning into his lips. 

“I’ve been aching to hear you say that, love.” He whispers as he runs his length against your heat. It’s almost as if he’s giving you a preview of what’s to come -- or rather, how you’ll be coming.

“Fuck, Bobby.” You moan.  A smirk graces his lips, and to anyone else he’d look cocky. However, the playful gleam in his eye shows you his true feelings of happiness in being the one who makes profanities spill from your lips, but never in anger. Only in desire.

A soft moan escapes you as he kisses down the curve of your jaw line. The heat from his tongue is cushioned by the pillows of lips, and you feel as though you’re under a trance as you tilt your head back to expose more of your neck in exchange for more of his affection. A cheeky smirk forms against your skin before he gently nips at the sensitive skin at the base of your neck, and your hand entangles itself in his dreads; a welcoming invitation to stay a while.

Finally, two of his fingers find their way to your entrance and he pushes in gently, groaning as your center gives him quite literally a warm welcome. The way you’re clenching around him confirms that your fingers would only do in desperate situations, at the thought of him, with his voice encouraging you. 

“You’re so hot.” He moans against your neck. It’s a stark contrast to the playful demeanor you saw just moments ago. A shiver runs down your spine as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, and you’re so caught up in the way you mold around him, you’re unable to acknowledge him with anything more than a grateful moan. 

Realizing you’re done with banter, he begins kissing the path down your body he knows like the back of his hand. As as farewell to your neck, he presses a sweet kiss to your collarbone, and begins lazily trailing his lips down the center of your body until he gets to the valley of your breasts. He stops for a moment before draping his tongue along the exposed skin and then turns his attention to your pointed nipples. The added affection of his tongue swirling across your tender skin, on top of his fingers relearning you, make your hips cry out in need as they pres upwards into him. A pitiful whine leaves the back of your throat, and you’re almost embarrassed at how badly you need to feel him on your clit.

“Please, love.” You ask ever so sweetly. He pulls back with an audible  _ pop!  _ The desperation in your voice proves to be enough for him as he flashes you a sweet smile.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He says softly before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses from your breasts down your stomach. Each graze of his tongue against your skin makes your nerves stand at attention with anticipation, and you’re hardly able to contain your excitement when he finally reaches just below your belly button. Your hips arch towards his mouth, and a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Someone’s eager.” His hot breath is on your center for only a moment.

“Only because you’ve been toying with me for so--” You begin, but are cut off as he  _ finally _ wraps his lips around your bundle of nerves. A built up moan releases itself from the constraints of your chest, and it seems to roll right through Bobby as the sound encourages him. No longer were you in a torturous game of who needs who more. Now, his tongue moves against you with a purpose. To make you sing his name as if you’re in choir. 

The two fingers that have been your only saving grace throughout his teasing ways suddenly cease their motions, and instead of slowly pumping inside you, they begin searching together for your G spot. The distance proves to have no effect on his memory, though, considering your back is arching off the table within moments of his hunt. An  _ OH _ courses through your body, and your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on the furious movements of his tongue, trying desperately to rock your hips along as that familiar coil beings to wind in your stomach.

You will yourself to open your eyes and appreciation the vision before you. The man you love so dearly is working his mouth against you with closed eyes in bliss. A sense of home fills you at the familiar tickle of his dreads brushing against the inside of your thigh. Through your haze of desire, your eyes find the freckles scattered along his nose and cheeks, and you wonder if he realizes although he calls you the perfect equivalent of a human cupcake, he’s the one who is beautiful, sweet, and sprinkled with perfection. 

“ _ Bobby _ .” You moan, unable to hold back your appreciation even if you wanted to. The corner of his lip tugs upwards, and your eyes nearly roll back in your head as his tongue somehow laps even faster at your clit. Evidently, he’s fueled by your need for him.

There are few things you’ve felt in this world that can compare to the way his mouth makes love to you. It goes beyond the pleasure that pulses through your veins, and the indescribable feeling that makes your body tense with the overwhelming feeling of pending release. It’s as if the pads of his fingers have longed to make you beg this way. As if his tongue has longed for the taste of your heat beneath it. As if he craves to worship your body for as long as you’ll let him.

His tongue swirls around your clit one last time before it sends your reeling into an ecstasy filled daze. The build up of every lick, suck, and carefully aimed breath ripples through you like a wave thrashing against the coastline as your hips wiggle helplessly against his face. You cry out his name, and it falls off your tongue like the sweet release of a secret you’ve been desperately trying to keep from dripping on your lips. Your thighs take their rightful place in the hollows of his cheeks, right underneath his chiseled cheekbones. The vibration of him moaning against your center makes you shake, and the hand that’s been resting on the curve of your ass gives it a gentle squeeze as if he can’t get enough of you. A long, quivering breath leaves your lips in an attempt to relax yourself as you come back down from your high. Your heart slowly returns to its normal pace, and Bobby pulls his fingers out from you. A shudder rolls through your core as you suddenly feel hollow. 

A wet kiss is lovingly placed to your inner thigh as he opens the drawer containing oven mitts. You prop yourself on your elbows and quirk a brow in intrigue. The drawer closes with a gentle  _ thud _ , and in Bobby’s hands is a square, gold wrapper.

“Why is there a condom with the oven mitts?” You ask, tilting your head and sitting upright. He flushes pink and fumbles with the wrapper. 

“I wanted to think ahead. There may be condoms scattered all about the flat, now.” He admits, giving you a cheeky smile. “What if the mood strikes us on the couch? On the floor of the living room? In the bathroom?” You bite your lip to prevent from smiling too wide. 

“Sounds like we’re in for a long weekend.” You laugh, grasping his cock in your hand and slowly stroking it. He hums with happiness and leans into your touch. Deft hands of his thread themselves in your hair as he presses his lips to yours, and you moan as your tongue skates around the spearmint ice rink of his mouth.

“I thought we could make up for lost time.” He says quietly against your lips. A sincerity in his eyes reveals a softer celebration of your homecoming.

“And the countertop is a lovely way to start.” You joke, matching his kind demeanor despite your sarcasm. His eyes twinkle with amusement, and you grin sheepishly back as he shoos your hand away to roll the protection onto himself. 

Once again, you lean back and spread your legs slightly as he settles himself between them. Realizing the heights don’t exactly line up, he pulls himself onto the countertop to join you, and rests with your thighs on top of his own. He takes himself in his hand and presses the tip of himself to your soaked center. As he begins to push into you, it feels as if two worlds are perfectly colliding.

Inch by inch he slowly eases himself into your heat. He sets a slow and purposeful pace as you begin to mold around him. The way he’s stretching you out is simply more than you can bear as it causes your head to tilt back. Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re in disbelief at how he can make you feel so complete, like a sword to a sheath. Simultaneously, your hips rise to meet his in an act of desperation, as you’re suddenly insatiable for the feeling of his skin on yours. 

Once the skin of his pelvic bone reaches your bundle of nerves, signaling he’s all in, he pauses and takes a moment to steady himself. A soft hand curves around your jawline, and that perfect thumb of his strokes your cheek as delicately as one picks petals off a flower. You are lucky enough to find the answer to the timeless question of “he loves me, he loves me not” in his touch.

“I missed you.” You choke out, your arms locking around his neck as a low groan of his rings in your ear. Your voice carries your love in a way in a way that’s almost unfamiliar to you. It’s overflowing with emotion like the way you pour the third or fourth glass of wine after an abysmal day. Though you are known to wear your heart on your sleeve, it’s not often it comes out so raw.

“I’m a wreck without you,” he begins, pulling himself out of you ever so slowly, only to roll his hips back into you. His movements are fluid and rhythmic, as if his love is an ocean and his body communicates his current. “I always have been. I always will be.” You moan in agreement and blink back the burn of the tears in your eyes, unsure if they’re due to his sudden display of vulnerability or knowing you’re the reason separation occurs at all.

If it’s possible to feel more of him, you’re desperate to find a way as you wrap your legs around his waist. The new angle allows him to search your deepest depths, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning too loudly as you lean your head onto his collarbone for support. 

“And here I thought you were an octopus before.” He strains a chuckle as his head leans down to yours. A smile graces your lips as he nuzzles your cheek, but before you can retort, he places his lips on your neck. You sharply inhale through your nose as his tongue trails down your skin, and you find your head tilting back so he can mark you however he pleases. The thought alone causes you to arch into him, pressing your chest to his, as if you aren’t already trying to cover every inch of his skin with your own.

His fingertips trail gingerly along the inside of your arms, and you shiver from the softness of his touch. The gentleness unlocks the halo that rests along his shoulders as his palms find your own. Slowly, his fingers lace through yours in an unbreakable knot, and he pins your arms securely to the countertop beneath your head. 

Upon further inspection, you realize how vulnerable this position has become. The only moving parts of you are your hips brushing against his as they meet, and your fingers tightening around his with every brush him inside you. It’s as if you’ve become so entagled, it’s difficult to tell where one body starts and the other begins. The only time you feel a semblance of separation is when he pulls his hips from you the way a candle melts its wax; separating briefly only to melt together again. 

The winding feeling in the pit of your stomach has reached a new peak, as if you’ve been shaking with anticipation on the incline roller coaster, and with one final, pointed thrust into you and a brush of your clit against his pelvis bone, you’re sent down the peak into a spiraling whirlwind of sensations. Your pulse races, and your breathing slows if only to try and catch up with the moment at hand. The only sound breaking through your haze of ecstasy is his moans of your name sending you through loops so intense, you’re left feeling dizzy. Both your and his hips raise to meet one another, and yours stutter against his as your body tries to handle your intensity. The only purchase either of you seem to find is in one another's lips, and in how your hands clasp even tighter than before. It’s a beautiful moment, toe curling moment that can only be described as heavenly as he rushes through your veins. 

Slow, shallow breaths begin to fill your lungs with some much needed air, and he smiles down at you softly before pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispers, before gently brushing his nose against yours. “Boop.” He says, even quieter. 

You grin up at him, booping him right back, and whispering, “I love you.” right back before pressing your lips to his once more as he pulls out of you. In your love struck state, the only thing you knew for certain is that you’re in for a long night.

* * *

The next morning you wake up before your gorgeous Glaswegian beau, and take a moment to appreciate your surroundings. The minimal sun Scotland gets through the typical cloudiness is peeking in from the blinds of the window. Soft, white secret keeping sheets caress your body from underneath you, and his dark navy comforter warms the parts of you that aren’t brushing against his body warmth. Despite falling asleep as the big spoon, your position changed throughout the night, as you wake up with your head on his chest and an arm around his toned frame. With bleary eyes you gently take his jaw in your hand and press tender kisses up his jawline to his ear. The curve of a smile appears before your eyes, and you smile back as his amber eyes sparkle with happiness you’ve been counting down the days to see again. His arm wraps around you with a reassuring squeeze, and you snuggle into his embrace. 

As someone who travels as much as you, home always had fickle meaning. It never seems to take shape as a place, but now you see that‘s because it’s meant to be found in a person instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, my beautiful sunshine's, for taking the time to read this MASSIVE oneshot. I felt I owed you all the sexy scenes since it's been so long since I've last posted. I hope you enjoyed it. I've missed you all. <3


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